


In The Mist

by Sensualityplus



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimidue, Haunting, Loneliness, M/M, Major Character Injury, References to Depression, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29741490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensualityplus/pseuds/Sensualityplus
Summary: Silver SnowThe war is over. His leige is dead. A lonely Dedue returns to Duscur only to be haunted by a familiar presence.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	In The Mist

By the faded roads which once lead to Duscur a shadow stalked the obliterated path. Neath a flock of feather white hair were eyes where joy no longer flickered, replaced by brooding sadness. Any voice which reached out to him felt like marble, cold and impenetrable. The path seemed endless yet fatigue was not an ailment suffered by a numb body. The soul had lost its flame the day Dimitri perished upon the points of cruel spears. His purpose, his reason for existing had been extinguished. With nowhere else to go he walked in familiar traces to find his way back home to Duscur.

The fields of Duscur stretched beyond the horizon, still, silence and empty. Little sprigs of green fought against the scorched earth, nature always found ways to recover despite mankind's malevolence and carelessness. The fields sighed and all the flowers had died but it was still as Dedue remembered it. He remembered the bouquets of exotic colours and the sweet scent of a newborn bloom. 

He sat there, alone, unaware of the time which passed. Only a tear kept him company as it trickled down his cheek. The weather seemed to have sympathy for him, a mist rose from the earth. A mourning shroud hid him from view. He felt the mist, damp and clammy upon his air, like a breath, a living breath. A vapour coiled around his hand before it seeped through his fingers. Dedue focussed his attention upon that empty palm. He sighed as it remained empty. Just beyond his reach a silhouette of another hand reached out for him but was fine in a blink of the eyes. 

"Hello?" Dedue's voice was swallowed by the mist, it barely reached the tip of his nose. There was a response, a quiet echo impossible to decipher. Dedue wrinkled his brow as his scars stung with pain which felt fresh. What was happening he did not know. 

Escape, he decided to pace until he was clear of the mist. A fruitless endeavour, the mist stayed with him as constant as a shadow in sunlight. Fright trembled beneath the skin but never reached the surface. This phenomenon was mysterious and with the lack of knowledge the seeds of prejudice were planted. 

Dedue was in thrall to the secret powers of the mist. He fell, facedown, sprawled beneath the increasing weight. The breath of the mist was heavy, softly claustrophobic, it made Dedue's heart start to canter. Held down in invisible bondage, he looked up and saw a familiar visage of pale flesh, flecks of golden hair and lips like a blood decanter.

"Your Highness?" The question hung in the air without an answer. There was a breeze of sweet scented chamomile as Dedue laid on the ground which was as cold as frost and had started to glisten in the white light. 

Then there was a smile he recognised well, a smile like the winter's sun on a misty day. It was unmistakable, an exact replica of Dimitri's smile, he believed it was a replica, a cruel trick of the mind. Dimitri had once been haunted by ghosts. Was he destined to suffer the same fate? 

"Is this not real, His Highness is dead." The first stab of defiance as Dedue clambered back to his feet. "His Highness is dead!" He repeated the last part, as though he was confirming it to himself. 

Blue, crystal and bright, he had not been prepared to see Dimitri's eyes again. They were the eyes which he had engaged in millions of silence conversations with. They were the eyes which had conveyed deep inner love to him. They were the eyes he longed to see shine after a night's sleep. He had missed those eyes more than anything. In an instant his heart was torn apart. With a hand held to his chest he descended to his knees. 

Just like in Duscur, when hope had perished and he was prepared to be burnt alive, a hand reached out to him. Dedue stared in disbelief at the vapour fingers open to him. He remembered everything about Dimitri's hand, every scar and indent, and how often they were caked in layers of unhygienic dirt. Every feature in the ghostly hand was as he remembered.

Had regret and loneliness driven him to maddess? There was only one way to find out. Despite his scepticism and fear he reached for the hand and prepared for nothing and anything…

The caress of ice as the hand held his. It felt real as though he was being saved once again. Instead of being pulled out of the flame he was being rescued from the burden of loneliness. 

"Dimitri, it is you. This must be the sweetest dream or an illusion. I do not care which. I would wish for eternal sleep and delusion to stay like this." Hand in hand he stayed, time did not penetrate the moment nor did it matter, Dedue just let it pass without a care. 

"Dedue, tell me to go if my presence causes you suffering. I was once haunted, familiar faces but they spoke in distorted words, not the voices of those I loved and lost. I sensed your loneliness, your broken heart and sadness. While you suffer I cannot rest in peace." The voice was faint, a mere whisper which was felt more than heard.

"Your Highness, I could not forgive myself if I was the cause for you not resting in peace." Dedue was hushed by a single icy finger. Mutual altruistic sentiment would send them around in circles.

"Enough, in death and in life from now on we shall both find peace." 

Dedue tried to look beyond the white mist to see the rest of Dimitri. There was nothing except for the hand he knew so well. 

"Dedue, you always felt warm." What Dimitri said was true. Together they were fire and ice and in an embrace they created the perfect temperature. 

"Can anyone else see us?" Dedue tried not to melt into the gentle words. There were things he needed to clarify before he could let himself become lost. 

"No, we are at the thinnest point of the veil between life and death." The voice, it felt stronger, as though they were lips stamped upon his forehead leaving an impression in his brain. "I am stronger here than we in the realm of the living." 

Dedue was confused, if Dimitri was stronger here then why could he only see and feel his hand? Why not the rest of him. "Can you reveal more of yourself to me Your Highness?"

"The rest of me…" The voice suddenly weakened….

Silence…

Silence…

It made Dedue shudder as coldness gripped his limbs. As he jerked he was blindsided by a flash of white. He was captured in a cameo of shock and horror. Flashbacks poured into his brain like putrid water drowning pleasantness. Dimitri at Gronder, a doll full of spears and pikes, a perversion of acupuncture. Blood spluttered from his mouth as the look of a devil sick of sin lingered in his dull eyes. Cruelty, pure and simple, the number of times he had been stabbed was excessive. If he had fallen into a pit trap there still would have been as impaled or mutilated.

Then it all faded to nothing. Dedue dropped to his knees and wept. The most had gone. He was alone again. 

"Your Highness! Your Highness! Dimitri!" He screamed at the top of his lungs but was again there was only silence.


End file.
